Embers
by PuttingOutFireWithGasoliine
Summary: After an arranged betrothal, Loki and Sigyn evolve as a couple.
1. Wedded Resentment

Their wedding was an unremarkable affair; as Odin's second-born, Loki's celebrations did not receive much attention from the court of Asgard. Compounding this was the fact that the marriage was arranged. Sigyn, a young woman of noble blood, had been selected to marry the Prince by the Allfather himself. Though she found the God of Mischief less than appealing, she would not dare object to Odin's decision. She swallowed her pride, and begrudginly gave her hand to her dark, brooding suitor. Of course, she knew that Loki found her just as disagreeable; they bickered endlessly on their first meeting.

The ceremony took place in one of the lesser banquet halls—Odin would not waste the Great Hall on such a meager event. Few people attended the occasion besides the couple's immediate family, making the room appear even barer. The bride and groom stood in the center of the room. Loki sported his finest armor, and Sigyn wore an emerald green gown that scooped low in the back. Though trembling with anger, Sigyn stood tall, striving to meet Loki's height. She glared at the horns on his helmet, silently cursing them. She then met his gaze, his cold green eyes boring into hers. Her fair cheeks flushed with irritation, giving her the façade of a blushing bride. Her mahogany locks had been pinned back so tightly that her eyebrows reached high towards her forehead. She felt ridiculous uneasy.

Sigyn tuned out the voices in the room, and thus missed most of her own wedding. When it came time for her to speak, Loki prompted her with a harsh squeeze to the hand. She mumbled the necessary phrases, her stomach churning in anticipation as the ceremonial kiss loomed on the horizon. She had never touched Loki before the wedding, besides the times he had customarily kissed her hand in greeting. She knew what their wedding night would hold, and feared such intimacy. Sigyn had never been with a man before—she had kissed a childhood sweetheart, but did not count that as an intimate experience.

Suddenly, Loki brought his hands to awkwardly caress Sigyn's cheeks. The kiss was upon them. Loki leaned in tentatively, bringing his soft lips to hers for only a brief moment before pulling away. Sigyn exhaled, easing the knot in her stomach. The rest of the ceremony passed in a haze as Sigyn let her thoughts wander. The room was prepared for dancing, and the few guests began to join in the merriment of the occasion. Loki pulled Sigyn into an intimate dance, to which she objected.

"My Father will want to see that we are a happy couple," he hissed in her ear. Sigyn knew he was right, and did not want to disappoint the Allfather. His left hand wandered up and down her exposed back, as he brought the back of his right hand to gently stroke her cheek.

"I don't want to be here," she whispered after a few minutes. Loki nodded his agreement.

"Just a short while longer and then we can leave," he returned. Sigyn bit her lip, dreading what was to come. Before long, the pitiful crowd began to dwindle, and the couple took that as their cue to leave. Loki reluctantly took hold of Sigyn's hand and announced their retirement to their matrimonial chambers. As they exited the room, Thor—Odin's first-born—gave Loki a solid smack on the back, and Sigyn a knowing wink. She shuddered.

Sigyn kept her eyes downcast as they made their way to their chambers. She did not want to see anyone or be seen. Loki stopped in his tracks when they reached their door. Heaving a sigh, he gazed down into Sigyn's aquamarine eyes. She nodded, permitting him to take her inside. The room was decorated in green—the color of Loki's cape. A formidable bed stood directly across from the couple, calling them to their fate. Loki closed the heavy wooden door behind them, sighing once more.

"I am sorry," he began, removing his helmet and tossing it aside, "Though we have never really been on good terms, I would not wish this on you. I am truly sorry, Sigyn." He ran his hands through his ink-black hair and sat at the edge of the bed. Sigyn, taken aback by his kindness, stood in silence.

"I know you do not love me," he continued, gazing into her eyes, "I cannot force you to. I am sure you are aware that I do not love you." Sigyn bristled at his brashness.

"This is our life now, Loki," Sigyn cocked her head as she spoke. "Our personal relationship is within our jurisdiction. Will we hate or tolerate one another?"

"I would rather not have my wife hate me," he laughed darkly.

"Alright then," Sigyn pulled the pins from her hair, freeing her wavy locks. She placed them on a nearby table before seating herself beside Loki. She knew she would lose her virginity, and she could no longer suffer in anxiety. Emboldened, she grabbed Loki's hand. Loki started at the sudden contact.

"I know what is going to happen tonight," she muttered, "If you are going to take me, then do so now." Loki's jaw slacked as she spoke. When she finished speaking, he pulled her into an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue shamelessly met with hers, engaging in a fiery dance. He gripped her waist, squeezing her flesh. To her surprise, Sigyn did not object to his actions. She savored the taste of his lips, his tongue, and then his skin as she kissed along his jawbone. Loki began removing his armor, the heavy metal clattering to the floor. Sigyn followed suit, removing her gown as swiftly as possible. Soon they were almost completely nude. Loki hoisted Sigyn in his arms, and laid her in the middle of the plush bed.

"Are you ready, Sigyn?" Loki's eyes bored into hers.


	2. Platonic Intimacy

Sigyn leaned back into the soft mattress as Loki went about removing the rest of her clothing. Her eyes roved over his lean frame, marveling at the muscles of his chest. It was then that she realized her new husband was not unattractive—far from it, in fact. His appearance was unique and alluring. She ran her hands over the small patch of black hair on his chest, sliding lower and lower until they were greeted by the coarse hairs of his lower abdomen. She felt exhilarated touching a man in this way. Loki hovered over her naked form, kissing and nipping at her neck. His hands groped her breasts, massaging them in a rather pleasing manner. He seemed skilled in this particular department. Sigyn gasped as he moved his mouth towards her breast, his warm breath creating heat in other parts of her body.

Sigyn glanced down to note that Loki had not removed his undergarments. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the large bulge there. Loki smiled and placed a messy kiss on her neck before removing that last garment. His manhood stood proud and firm, and appeared far too big for the task at hand. Sigyn gawked at his foreign anatomy, anxiety building up in her stomach. Loki noticed her concern.

"I'll be gentle," his lips grazed her ear as he spoke. He centered himself between her legs, pulling her thighs up against his side. He paused, waiting for permission to proceed. Sigyn nodded her approval, and not a moment later he entered her. She cried out in pain. Loki slowly slid himself deeper, allowing Sigyn's body to adapt to the intrusion. Sigyn clenched her legs around his waist and clawed at the sheets. Loki grabbed Sigyn's arms and placed them over his shoulders.

"You might want something to hold on to," he warned, before pulling out slowly. Sigyn dug her nails into his pale skin, whimpering. He pushed himself in again, and began to build up a rhythm. With each thrust, Sigyn felt the pain dissolve into pleasure. A throaty moan escaped her, causing Loki to grin devilishly.

"Does that feel good, love?" he licked his lips wickedly. Sigyn groaned her assent. He picked up the pace, their sweat mingling. "Do you want me to stop?" he teased. Sigyn vigorously shook her head in disapproval. The pace increased once more, eliciting loud squeaks and creaks from the bed beneath. A bizarre and exquisite feeling began to build up in Sigyn, intensifying with each movement. Before long she was crying out her husband's name, waves of ecstasy rolling over her in a way she had never felt before. Loki kept pumping until he spilled his seed into her with a loud grunt. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her bedraggled hair. The two lied there, panting, for what seemed like an eternity, before Loki removed himself from Sigyn's body. He fell to her side, exhausted.

Once they both regained their breath, silence fell over the room. Loki crawled underneath the sheets and faced away from Sigyn. His bride soon joined him there, scooting close and wrapping her arm over his side. Loki tensed, and shot a quizzical glance over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, his tone cold. Sigyn recoiled and moved to the far end of the bed, tears silently spilling from her eyes as sleep overcame her.


	3. Melancholy

Years had passed since their wedding night, yet the dynamic remained very much the same. Loki and Sigyn never said they loved each other—it would be a lie. They did not experience emotional intimacy; Loki never spoke of anything besides trivial matters, and Sigyn did not want to irritate him. They barely even acknowledged each other in public. However, they became an entirely different couple when physically intimate. They made love on most nights and most mornings, each encounter invigorating and satisfying. In those moments, they were happy in their marriage. Of course, these moments usually ended with a harsh comment that killed whatever passion that kindled them.

Sigyn sat in their bedchambers, stitching a small pillow for the arrival of another noblewoman's first-born child. She grew frustrated with her work, jabbing the pin through the cloth and pricking her finger. She cursed and threw the pillow across the room, nursing her bleeding finger. She hated living in the palace. She felt bitter failure when around other women her age; she had not conceived in the five years of her marriage, and felt mocked by the pregnant bellies around her. Barren women were often left by their husbands. Though she did not love her spouse, she did not want that fate. She returned to her stitching as she watched the sun set out of her chamber window. Suddenly, she felt hot breath on her neck.

"You look lovely today," Loki nipped at her earlobe as his hands ghosted over her shoulders. Sigyn dismissed his flattery without a second thought.

"You are back early," she commented, standing so she could face him. He shrugged, looking her up and down. She knew what he wanted. Sighing, she placed her hands on his chest, sliding them down until she reached the front of his trousers. With a quick squeeze, she determined that he wasn't quite ready for their evening activities. She traced her tongue along his jawbone, and down his neck—she knew he loved this. He moaned, and began the daunting task of removing his armor. Sigyn stripped down in nearly one swift movement, and reclined on their bed. Loki, naked, crawled on top of her, and pushed her further onto the bed. He kissed his way from her lips to her collarbone and from there all the way to her navel. Instead of stopping and returning to her lips, he continued descending.

Sigyn bit her lip and closed her eyes. He stopped the trail of kisses for a moment, and suddenly brought his lips down on her most intimate region. Her eyes snapped open and she exclaimed in shock. Loki scoffed and attempted to repeat the action. Sigyn jerked away, earning her a condescending glare from Loki.

"What are you _doing_?" she nearly shouted. Loki rolled his eyes and kissed Sigyn's kneecap.

"I was going to try out something new," he explained, "I promise you would find it most pleasurable." His eyes pleaded with Sigyn's. She exhaled.

"I will give it a try," she began, "but if I tell you to stop, you will stop." He agreed to her terms and kissed his way back to her womanhood. He placed his hands on her thighs as he buried his face between them. Sigyn gasped, a new, dirty pleasure taking hold of her. When Loki began to use his tongue, Sigyn lost control. She entwined her fingers in his raven locks, whimpering in delight. Her ecstasy came quickly, leaving her breathless. Loki removed his head from between her legs, wiping his mouth. He smiled before plunging into her, taking her by surprise. Their lovemaking progressed as usual, passionate and heated. When they had finished for the night, the couple adjourned to their respective sides of the bed. Soon her thoughts overwhelmed her, and Sigyn began to silently weep.

"Loki?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Yes?" he curtly responded.

"I think I am barren," she confessed, "I am sorry I failed you." She buried her head in the pillows to muffle the sound of her sniffling. She suddenly felt a warm presence behind her, and pulled her head out from under the pillows. Loki hovered over her, his eyes heavy with pity. His fingertips grazed her cheekbones.

"Do not fret," he whispered, "I would be a wretched father." He smiled sadly, his demeanor reminding Sigyn of the kindness he showed her on their wedding night. He curled up behind her, holding her close as she drifted off to sleep.


	4. Broken

Sigyn was awoken early the next morning when she felt Loki sit up in bed. He had fallen asleep while embracing her, and remained in that position throughout the night. Loki stretched and rolled out from underneath the covers. In the light of dawn, his pale skin resembled marble. Before he could make it any farther, Sigyn placed a hand on his arm. Loki started, and turned back towards Sigyn.

"I did not realize that you were awake," he whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.

"I want to talk to you," Sigyn blurted out. Confused, Loki reclined and propped his head up with his arm.

"What about?" He inquired suspiciously.

"Our marriage." Loki exhaled heavily at this and rubbed his eyes.

"It is too early for this," he began, "I am too tired to have this conversation." Sigyn's eyes began to mist with tears.

"I am too tired to continue this way," she spat, "I am tired of being hurt by you. I am tired of having meaningless intercourse. I feel like a palace whore!" Her words built in ferocity until she was shouting. Loki sat in silence for a few moments, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"What do you want?" he asked, seething.

"I want to be loved by my husband," she retorted, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Is that such a terrible thing to ask?"

"Fine," he shrugged and sprung off the bed, "I can leave you. I can use the excuse that you are barren. We will both be happier." Sigyn's eyes widened in horror. She had hoped for some sort of breakthrough in their relationship. She did not expect—or want—this outcome. Every man would see her as unfit for marriage.

"Please," she begged, "please do not leave me!" She crawled towards the edge of the bed, narrowing the space between them. Loki avoided her pleading eyes.

"You want a man who will love you," he stated, "and I prefer to be alone. This is for the best." Sigyn collapsed into a bawling heap as Loki dressed for the day. He left the room, leaving Sigyn naked and abandoned.

The morning passed in a haze of misery. Sigyn half-heartedly donned her nightgown, desperately seeking comfort in the warmth of the cloth. At noon she heard a sharp rap at the door. After quickly pulling herself together, she hesitantly opened it. A palace guard, stern and terse, greeted her with a nod.

"Prince Loki has announced his divorce from you, my lady," he declared, "I am here to assist you from the palace grounds." Sigyn choked back a sob.

"But—my belongings—" she stammered.

"My men will pack your possessions for you." He replied. As he spoke, a group of guards rushed past the door and into the chamber. They began haphazardly tossing her property into a single trunk. They finished in a matter of minutes; Sigyn did not have many belongings. "I am afraid it is time for you to leave." He concluded. Sigyn nodded, tears streaming down her face, and followed the guard out of the chamber. Still in her nightgown, Sigyn felt humiliated. This walk was the longest of her life. The guard led her to the palace gates, where his men dropped her trunk.

"Where will I go?" Sigyn knew this man could not answer. As a divorcee, the noblewomen would not accept her back into their ranks. She had no place to stay. The guard could not formulate a response, and turned on his heel back towards the palace. Dejected, Sigyn lifted her trunk and made her way into the nearby village. She found an inn and asked for a room, but was denied when she confessed that she had no money. Sigyn dragged her trunk outside once more, and began to openly weep. Night began to fall on the village.

A woman approached Sigyn after a few moments. Her garish dress pushed her breasts up towards her chin, and her face was heavily painted. She laid a hand on Sigyn's shoulder.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Her eyes, full of sympathy, bored into Sigyn's. Sigyn weakly nodded. "What is your name, dear?" She asked.

"Sigyn," she replied, "and yours?"

"Nott," she responded, "come with me." Nott held her hand out, beckoning Sigyn to take it. Sigyn did so, pulling her trunk behind her as they walked. They passed several inns and taverns, making their way towards the edge of the village. They came upon a tall building with brightly lit windows. Nott guided Sigyn inside. As soon as she crossed the threshold, her heart fell into her stomach. She found herself in a hallway lined with closed rooms, each bustling with the activities of its occupants. Sigyn knew those sounds all too well.

"I am not a—" Sigyn was cut off by Nott.

"None of us started out this way," Nott began, "we had hopes and dreams for our lives. But it looks like you can choose either this life or starvation." Nott's eyes were burdened with the pain of her profession. Her face was lined with age—or was it simply the result of the life she led? Sigyn assessed her options. She had been intimate with a man she didn't love for over five years; she had a hard time being indignant at the prospect. She closed her eyes, and accepted her new fate.

"I will do what I have to." Sigyn conceded. Nott nodded in agreement.

"You are brave." She squeezed Sigyn's hand. "Now we must get you ready."


	5. Painted Dolls

Nott guided Sigyn up a nearby staircase, and pushed her into a room full of painted women. They turned, looking Sigyn up and down. She stood self-consciously.

"Ladies," Nott began, "this is Sigyn. She is going to work with us now. We must get her ready for tonight." With that, the women pulled Sigyn to the center of the room. Nott rifled through a dresser in the corner of the room, extracting a sapphire gown. The women pulled Sigyn's nightgown over her head, replacing it with the new, rather low-cut garment. They pulled the laces at the back of the dress, pushing her breasts together to make a tasteless amount of cleavage. When she was dressed, the women began sponging makeup onto her face and tugging her hair into a loose bun. She caught her reflection in a mirror above the dresser. She certainly looked the part.

Nott ushered Sigyn back down the staircase and into one of the rooms lining the front hallway. Inside were a rickety bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirror. The room was windowless and felt like a coffin. Sigyn sat at the edge of the bed. Nott stood in the doorway, looking at Sigyn with pity.

"This will be where you work and where you sleep," she explained, "You will have to stand outside to attract customers, but you will bring them here. Take what they're willing to pay you, and I will take my share from that. Good luck." She left the room. Sigyn stood, inhaling deeply. She could not cry now. That would have to wait. She made her way to the front of the building, stepping out alongside several other women. Almost immediately, a drunken man approached her.

"Hello there, lovely," he slurred in her ear, "How much for a go?" He looked like a warrior, strong in build and with long brown hair. She hesitated.

"How much do you have?" She tried to keep her voice a purr. The man guffawed and roughly squeezed her left buttock.

"You are a saucy one aren't you?" He teased. "I love it!" He tossed Sigyn over his shoulder. Sigyn silently objected. He carried her into the building. "Which room?" He asked.

"The one on the left, at the end of the hall." She replied. He strode down the hallway to the correct door, not setting her down until they were inside. Before Sigyn could ask about her pay, he began to unbutton his trousers. She took that as her cue to undress. After removing her clothing, Sigyn cast her eyes towards the floor. She glanced upwards to notice that the man had his quite pitiful member in his hand. She wanted to vomit. He suddenly grabbed hold of her, putting his face between her breasts, before bending her over the dresser. He shoved himself into her, his manhood not coming close to the places her ex-husband could reach. She endured the event, forcing her mind to wander. When he was done, he reached into his back pocket, tossing several coins at Sigyn before leaving. Sigyn took the coins and collapsed onto her bed, permitting herself to cry.

Sigyn worked in the whorehouse for two years. The skills she had gained from her encounters with her former husband caused her to escalate in rank as a prostitute; instead of bedding drunkards and vagrants, she became the woman that noblemen turned to when their marriages lacked intimacy. Towards the end of her stay at the whorehouse, Sigyn found herself invited to upper-class parties. She almost never cried; perhaps her tears had been spent. She became callous and fiery, abandoning her propriety and respect for her superiors.

Sigyn, attending an evening party as a nobleman's mistress, adjusted the front of her dress to maximize her cleavage before knocking on the door. The party was being held in a mansion near the palace—away from suspicious wives. Her date answered the door, showering her in kisses. She gave him a saccharine smile before entering the building. The guests were seated in a banquet chamber, drinking copious amounts of wine and laughing raucously. Sigyn joined the other guests, sashaying over to a tufted couch. The men in the room eyed her as she moved, earning some scoffs and smacks from their dates. She grabbed a chalice of wine and took a hearty sip. She engaged in pointless chatter, humoring her high-paying client. He pulled her into his lap, giving her thigh a squeeze. It was then that she noticed the dark guest in the corner. She nearly choked on her wine.


	6. A Familiar Face

There he stood, sipping his wine and observing the room. Sigyn resisted the urge to hurl he glass in his general direction. He clearly did not recognize her—then again, she would not have recognized herself. He did not look the same, either. His raven locks cascaded farther than before, curling slightly at the ends. This gave him a more wild appearance. Sigyn stood, gritting her teeth, and swayed her hips as she approached her former husband. She plastered an inviting smile on her face.

"What is the Prince of Asgard doing in such company?" She hissed in his ear. The slight smirk that previously adorned his face vanished instantaneously. He stood agape. "Shall I tell the Allfather that his son spends his time with whores?" Her words dripped with venom.

"Sigyn—" he stuttered. She clamped her hand over his mouth.

"Do not waste your breath, Odinson," she seethed, "I will never forgive you." She grabbed his wineglass and splashed its contents across his front before storming out of the manor. Her client chased her outside, begging her to stay. She cursed at him and ran back to the whorehouse. She tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. She fell into a light slumber in the early hours of the morning.

At around noon, she heard her door creak open, and felt a weight settle on her bed. Her eyes flew open to see the intruder, and she shouted obscenities when she found Loki gazing at her from the end of her bed. She pulled her sheets to cover her body, regretting her decision to wear her skimpier nightgown. He sighed, his eyes travelling over the room.

"This is your life now," he muttered, almost to himself.

"How did you find me?" She exclaimed, "Why are you here?" Loki bit his lip.

"Your profession was rather apparent at the party," he responded, "This is one of the few whorehouses in Asgard. It was a simple matter of asking the right people."

"If you are so perceptive, then you should have been able to deduce that I do not want you here!" Sigyn spat. He ran his hand through his hair.

"I know I did this to you," he murmured, "and I am truly, truly sorry, Sigyn." She huffed and stood to dress herself properly.

"You are correct," she fumed, "Had you never left me, I would not be in this position." He bit his knuckle before speaking.

"I want you to know that my life has been far from grand." Sigyn snorted in derision as she pulled on her blue gown. She faced him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"Have you any idea exactly how difficult it is to resist hitting you?" she shrieked. He chuckled softly.

"Many people share that sentiment," he conceded. A few moments of silence passed. He cleared his throat. "I tried to kill Thor," he confessed. Sigyn's eyebrows arched in surprise. "I killed Laufey, and I also attempted to rule Midgard."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sigyn warily inquired. He exhaled.

"I figured that you hate me, and have always hated me," he admitted, "so there is no circumstance in which I can disappoint you." She chuckled at his blunt honesty. His emerald eyes found hers. She could see that he had lost everything; his eyes revealed a pain that she knew all too well. In that brief moment, she pitied this awful man. She sat beside him on the bed.

"You are an utter fool," she shook her head as she spoke, "Did you really think you could accomplish all of that?" He laughed and rubbed his eyes.

"At the time, I believed I could succeed. I have since learned my lesson," his self-deprecation almost alarmed Sigyn. This was not the arrogant brat she had married.

"I once thought I could succeed," Sigyn reminisced. Loki leaned back, resting his head against the wall.

"Do you remember our wedding night?" He crossed his arms as he asked.

"Of course," Sigyn quipped. He smiled.

"My nerves nearly got the best of me," he divulged, "but I remember you let your hair down, and essentially told me to get it over with. You are very brave, Sigyn." He briefly stroked her hand, stood, and exited the room. Sigyn sat in shock before scrambling towards the door.

"Will I see you again?" She called after him. He turned back, grinning.

"I thought you never wanted to see me again." He teased.

"If I decide against that, which I am by no means promising," she used her words to toy with him, "will you return?" He nodded, smirking, as he left the whorehouse. Sigyn closed her door, leaning her back against it as she inhaled deeply. She wanted to kick herself, but there was no escaping the thought clouding her mind: in those last few moments with Loki, Sigyn felt a contentedness that she had never experienced.


	7. Reconciliation

Loki did not return for a few days, leaving Sigyn time to ponder her feelings towards the fallen Prince. She thought about him constantly, her mind wandering back to him as she worked. She tired of this life; through all of the pain and degradation, she wanted nothing more than to feel some shred of happiness. If she swallowed her grudge and developed a relationship with Loki, she figured that perhaps he could help her escape the whorehouse. He still held his title as Prince of Asgard; he had wealth and some influence. In addition, Loki's newfound sense of defeatism provided a common ground for the two. Sigyn scorned herself for wishful thinking.

Loki arrived at the whorehouse in the evening, after Sigyn had already begun her work. At the time, she was with a particularly despicable nobleman who had promised additional pay—so long as Sigyn agreed to have her hands bound during their session. Though this was not the first time a man had asked to bind her, Sigyn found his request remarkably disagreeable. However, her status proffered no room to decline, so she begrudgingly acquiesced. After tying her wrists together in a fiendish knot, the man slammed her against her dresser, bending her over for better access. It was at this time that a sharp rap sounded on her door. Sigyn pushed backward, thrusting the man away, and pulled the tether around her wrists loose with her teeth. The man protested loudly, which Sigyn ignored. She was relieved to have some sort of escape from her situation, however temporary. Still nude, she crossed the room in three quick strides, opening the door a crack. There stood Loki, greeting her with a small smile.

"Out." She called over her shoulder, gesturing her head towards the door as a signal for her irritated customer to leave. The man huffed in indignation before stammering out his objection.

"Do your job, you arrogant quim!" he roared, moving to strike her. Sigyn dodged his blow before slapping him across the face, making sure to dig her nails into his flesh.

"I said leave." Her voice dripped with venom. "I will not be paid, and you will not be serviced. Now leave." The man clutched his bleeding cheek, nostrils flaring with rage, and stormed out into the hallway. Loki remained just outside her door, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. Sigyn pulled her sheet from her bed and wrapped it loosely around her naked form before permitting Loki entry. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. For a few moments, neither spoke.

"Hello again." Loki broke the silence first. Sigyn sat on the edge of her bed, unsure of what to say. Loki cleared his throat before extracting a velvet pouch from within his cloak, and tossing it on the bed. The clink of heavy coins—in multitudes—caught Sigyn off guard. Her heart sank; he wanted to be her customer. She exhaled, knowing that she could not refuse such a large sum of money, and let the sheet fall to the ground. Loki stood agape, brows knitted in concern. Sigyn approached him, running her hands down the front of his chest, towards his trousers.

"I am not asking you to do that." He stopped her hands, holding them for an instant before stepping backward. Confused, Sigyn retracted her hands. "I believe I have enough money to pay for an entire evening's worth of service." He explained, "I am giving you this money so that you do not have to work tonight." Sigyn bit her lip, tears welling at this act of kindness. Speechless, she simply stared into Loki's emerald eyes, forgetting her own nudity. Loki's eyes, softer than she had ever remembered, gazed back at her, his lips curving into a sheepish grin.

"You can put your clothes back on if you would like." He stumbled over his words. Sigyn nodded and retrieved her nightgown from her dresser, pulling it over her head in one movement. She turned to face Loki once more, her heart thawing after years of cold resentment. Still at a loss for words, Sigyn stepped towards the Prince, her arms encircling his waist in a tight embrace. She hid her face from his sight, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. He had foregone his armor that evening, sporting a more casual black shirt. Sigyn's cheek pressed against the fabric, warmed from contact with his skin. Loki froze as she hugged him, eventually relaxing enough to gently stroke her hair. This physical contact differed greatly from the kind they shared during their marriage; this embrace was charged not with carnal desire, but with an emotional intimacy that neither had ever experienced. Sigyn pulled away, meeting Loki's eyes once more.

"Will you hold me?" Sigyn searched his eyes for an answer. Loki nodded, reaching out to swipe a stray tear from her face. She guided him towards her bed, seating him at the edge before lying down with her head on her pillow. She beckoned him to join her, and Loki situated himself directly behind her, cradling her in his arms. His hands gingerly roamed over her stomach, hips, and thighs. He buried his head in the hair at the back of her neck, inhaling deeply. She cherished his warmth. She grasped one of his wandering hands before bringing it to her lips for a soft kiss. Loki sighed as she wound her fingers with his.

"Please stay with me tonight." Sigyn quietly pleaded.

"I will." He responded, nuzzling her shoulder blade.


	8. A Promise

The next morning, Sigyn awoke in Loki's arms. In the night, he had removed his shirt, his warm body compensating for the fact that her sheet remained in a pile on the floor. From his deep, even breathing, Sigyn deduced that he was still asleep. She reveled in the memory of the night before. They had not made love; Sigyn did not want to ruin the purity of the moment. Loki did not ask for intercourse, despite the arousal that Sigyn could clearly feel as he touched her. That simple restraint tugged at Sigyn's heartstrings. The man she married would have coerced her into love-making. She felt Loki stir behind her, his arms stretching around her body. Sigyn turned to face him.

"Good morning." She whispered, stroking his jawbone with the back of her hand. He smiled, sleep heavy in his eyes. He groggily returned the greeting, and Sigyn's hand wandered down his neck, stopping at the small patch of hair on his chest. She gently stroked him with her fingertips. A quiet moan emanated from the back of his throat. The noise sparked her arousal. She grabbed his chin and brushed her lips against his, testing his reaction. He leaned in to lengthen the kiss. Sigyn laid her hands on his chest, her mouth moving against his with a growing ferocity. Her hands moved up and down, over his toned abdomen and back up to his shoulders.

"Sigyn…" her name was a sigh on his lips. In that moment, she realized that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She rolled him onto his back, straddling his hips. She whipped her nightgown over her head, tossing it to the floor. Loki groaned appreciatively, his hands resting on her ribcage. She leaned down to continue kissing him. He squeezed her breasts, tenderly rubbing them in circles. She pulled at the front of his trousers, removing his remaining clothing as quickly as possible. His erection stood proud and firm. Sigyn had forgotten how wondrous a man's body could be. She centered herself over him, pushing her hips down until he was fully sheathed inside her. Both moaned loudly at the contact. Sigyn lifted herself, his member nearly leaving her entirely, before coming down again. She built up a steady rhythm, pumping her hips, as Loki gripped her thighs.

Unlike the filthy intercourse she had with her customers, this was true love-making. Her moans of pleasure were the farthest thing from forced, and the man beneath her did not force himself upon her. She pinned his shoulders to the bed as she increased her pace, Loki's head tilting back in ecstasy. He swiftly reversed their positions, hiking her legs around his waist as he penetrated her. His lips joined hers once more, and Sigyn grasped at his buttock, forcing him in deeper. She could feel her climax building up, and cried out his name like a prayer. Her rapture fell upon her, and she clawed at the skin on Loki's back. Loki soon found his release, collapsing on top of her in a sweating, panting mess. Sigyn moved a few sweaty strands out of his face before kissing him on the forehead. He rolled to her side, grasping her hand in his. Sigyn caught her breath, her chest heaving. Loki rested his head on her breast, using it as a pillow.

"That was different than the other times." He concluded after a few moments of silence. Sigyn nodded in agreement, petting his hair. "It was better than the other times." He added. She smiled, savoring the moment.

"Sigyn," he sat up slightly to look her directly in the eye, "hear me when I say this: I promise that you will never have to sell yourself again." Sigyn exhaled slowly, before responding.

"Darling, your promise is well-intended, but I have nowhere else to live." This bitter reality stung at her eyes.

"You can live with me." Loki's eyes were full of sentiment.

"As your mistress? Or your wife?" She retorted. "I have no intention of being either." Loki propped his head up on his arm, his face stone.

"To be blunt, I do not care for society's labels. I would like you to live with me—as my lover." Sigyn's eyebrows arched. "If the people of Asgard see you as my mistress, or my wife, I do not give a damn. Our relationship is entirely up to us." He kept his eyes locked on hers.

"In that case," Sigyn responded, "I would very much like to live with you." His face broke into a wide grin, and he cradled her face in his hand.

"Excellent. I will speak to Thor, and I will gather enough money to buy you out of this place." Tears rolled down Sigyn's face as he spoke. He brushed them away with his thumb before kissing her softly.

"I love you, Loki." She whispered.

"Then my love is not unrequited." He smiled and squeezed her hand. "I love you too, darling." He assured.


End file.
